


The Future Looks Clear From Here Out

by keiimos



Series: The World Keeps Turning On Its Axis [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Historical, brief mentions of violence and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1918572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keiimos/pseuds/keiimos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing that united them, it was their disdain for the powers that now dictated their fate. If there was one thing that divided them it was their hatred for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Future Looks Clear From Here Out

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: India (Nalin Roy), Pakistan (Aahan Roy*), England (Arthur Kirkland), Bangladesh (Udit Roy*)
> 
> Mentioned: Russia, other South Asia members.
> 
> Setting: England, directly after the company rule ends and British Raj begins flashing forward to India, 1880s-1940s with the ending being ambiguous in location and time (arguments could be made that it’s after India’s 2014 election when his new Prime Minister was sworn in and Pakistan attended for the first time). 
> 
>  
> 
> Pakistan would later change his name to Akmal Farooq after his people renamed him during the 1940s. He is [Shilly’s OC ](http://nekotalia.tumblr.com/)who she so kindly let’s me borrow from time to time. Bangladesh would later change his name to Emran Azim while living with Pakistan after the Partition of India.
> 
> Bhai is the Hindustani word for brother. 
> 
> Trying to toe the line between justification and not being forgiving is hard in regards to the way India really fails to understand his brother and in the process ends up wounding him a lot.

  _1858_

 

There were wars, and then were _wars._ There was winning and then there was losing. He had won and lost his fair number of wars and had dealt with the outcome each time with a firm hand and a steady gaze at the future after his punishment was over. The issue now was he didn’t see an end to said punishment.

 

Years ago, he should have seen this coming, but he had been high on power and thought nothing could touch him. He had welcomed the enemy in and thought that the devil itself would play fair. He had been far too naïve. He should have known better.

 

But he had seen greater empires crash and burn. Time wore down all things. It was simply now a matter of waiting, and hoping his people would emerge united and unscathed.

 

There was a price for freedom, and he knew he would be willing to bleed himself dry for it, but he also knew that he did not want his people to suffer too great a loss.

 

“But they are such that they would feed themselves ten times over before feeding any of my people,” he muttered, hands fisting for a moment before he calmed himself. He didn’t hate the weather on this tiny island called the British Isles, but he wasn’t used to it. A lifetime ago when he had saw a map of the place where the English came from (he had never paid it much mind before), he had thought it strange that such a small place had such a large demand for resources. And here he was, centuries later at the heart of the British Empire.

 

 _What was it they said…?_ He mused as he turned from the window and the downpour happening outside and looked at the closed office doors, _The Crown Jewel in their empire—what a sad place to be._

He had gotten roused far earlier than he would like with demands he not be late to this meeting. Now he was here, and for what? It wasn’t as if Arthur was ready to see him since he was _such_ a busy person.

 

He sighed and put a finger to his temple rubbing against the forming headache. He wouldn’t have a headache if these people actually knew how to make coffee correctly. At least the tea was tolerable.

 

His fingers were just going to run through his hair when the latest cause of his issues stepped out and waved him into his office.

 

The meeting was short and to the point due to the language barrier. Nalin understood all of what Arthur was saying in English, but it amused him to continue to act like he didn’t and to hear the man struggle along in Hindi as best he could. He supposed soon he would have to stop pretending, especially now that company rule had ended in bloodshed and the crown was taking over. This was considering the still raw ache in his body and that the cold truth now were that the English weren’t leaving anytime soon. Before today his meetings with Arthur had been brief and with a translator. He had never expected this to continue to the point it had now were people who weren’t his people were deciding his fate for the indefinite future.

 

 _Just leave, leave us be, stop making plans for keeping control and leave._ But trying to tell other empires what they could and couldn’t do had never worked for him a day in his life. He had fought since nearly his birth to keep his sovereignty and that never lasted for long. This was just another bump in the road that would lead somewhere better than this.

 

Arthur was giving up and sighing, switching to English, “And where is Aahan?” as if just noticing his absence.

 

“Well it wouldn’t do for both of us to leave the country for too long,” the best lies, Nalin had figured out a long time ago, were those that were coated in truth. It wouldn’t do for them both leave but that was not why his brother wasn’t here. In truth the long ocean voyage would not have suited him.

 

“True enough, well all that’s left is for you to meet the Queen. Make sure you greet her properly,” Arthur looked harried as he put the lids on inks and wiped off his hands. He looked ridiculous and so young trying to be an empire. But Nalin was well aware that appearances were frequently misleading.

 

“I can do that,” Nalin said after a pause, as if he needed the time to figure out the English words. He stood, glancing at the desk where papers sat that Arthur had summoned him to this far corner of the globe to try and explain. As if trying to do this business openly would hide the sins what his countrymen had failed to do secretly.

 

He met the Queen. He _nearly_ liked her.

 

* * *

  _1885_

His people were rising and he was rising with them. There was a taste in the air that promised change and he could feel it in his bones. The city was shifting and the way it had been divided for so long was too. Education had always been key and now so many were embracing it and learning. If they could _afford_ it.

 

The house he lived in was nice, it was not the palaces of his youth and nor the places he had stayed at as a child. It was something that suited this new India.

 

He glanced at the clock and then finished up his letter. There was much to do and much to see and there was a special meeting tonight. He sealed the letter and left it to sit and went in search of his erstwhile brother.

 

If he had been difficult to deal with when he had been half Nalin’s size he was now even more so after growing so much taller than Nalin. Nalin would wonder what had caused that growth when he would think about how no matter what actions he took the boy never had grown. And yet, here he was underneath an oppression regime and flourishing as never before.

 

His bedroom while dark did not contain him. There were few places he could fit now that he was larger, but the type of places he liked had not changed. A quick search while he thought out his next letter that he had to write had him finally going outside after he glanced out the window and to the backyard.

 

“Honestly,” he muttered, stepping just a bit quicker now, “Wake up!” There wasn’t even a stir and he sighed and stopped just shy of him. At least he had taken a blanket so he wouldn’t be directly on the ground this time. “Aahan.”

 

No response and he weighed his options. Any closer and he risked getting hit if Aahan woke up stretching or hit just because he didn’t want to be touched. But time was ticking and there were meetings to attend. These weren’t just meetings that were just important on principle but rather meetings that could hold the key to both of their futures.

 

Nalin bent down and shook his brother’s shoulder until he got an incoherent mutter. He stood up and stepped back far enough as Aahan shook himself awake and glared at him after yawning. Nalin raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“You need to stop sleeping all the time.”

 

“Stop lecturing me,” Nalin heard in response, but he was already stepping away.

 

“Come eat something if you haven’t, freshen up and let’s be on our way.”

 

He had thought that children were difficult, but children on the edge of being adults were even worst.

 

The walk to the meeting hall didn’t take long, and Aahan stopped looking sullen for all of five minutes after they were leaving. He looked thoughtful instead.

 

Nalin spoke on about all that the people were doing and what he dared hoped they could accomplish as his brother nodded now and again. He seemed like he was choosing his words and soon after spoke his peace and they continued to converse from halfway from the hall to all the way home. He liked his brother best when he was using his brain and showing that years of education and lectures and spending time with the best the Mughal Empire had to offer had not been in vain.

 

They reached home and he was about to launch into another point when Aahan directed his attention to their home. Udit was sitting on the front looking out at the street, arms folded on his lap as he frowned. He did not live with them; for fear that they would make plans and do something drastic. The only reason Aahan was allowed to live with him was because even after all this time no one could pinpoint who exactly he represented, aside from being a representation of India. That was what had allowed him to stay with his brother and even though Nalin had long since figured it out, he would be the last to say. It was hard to do drastic things when there were millions of lives at stake; he wished that those in charge would recognize this fact.

 

“I have been waiting,” he said, stepping away from the door so that Nalin could unlock it.

 

“I hope not for long,” he waved everyone inside and locked the doors. Before there had been servants to do this sort of thing, and then he realized that servants who were not paid directly from him were not loyal to him and thus their loyalties laid elsewhere. If there was one place in the entire world he demanded to have peace of mind and safety, it was here in his home.

 

“Not too long, where have you been? I thought at least Aahan would be here.”

 

“We went to a meeting,” Aahan nearly towered over everyone in the room and considering all things it wasn’t fair.

 

“Sit down, I’ll make some tea and we can talk. We were discussing the meeting on the way back. We can tell you what was said.” Nalin waved a hand at the chairs in the sitting room and then went to the kitchen to start up some water for the tea. He came back and Udit was in the middle of his question to Aahan who had settled near the window and was leaning back like he was going to sleep at any moment.

 

Udit sighed and looked at Nalin who smiled and shrugged, “It was about the future. It was our people discussing their future. It was them getting upset with the British, it was them speaking out.” His smile slipped and tightened, “It gives me hope but it’s a frail hope at that. These are not people who so easily change their ways. But, if Canada was able to achieve what we want, this is a step forward I think.”

 

“These are not people who will easily change,” Udit sighed, “But you are right, it is a step.”

 

“We don’t just need steps. We need more than that.”

 

“Violence only sows more violence,” Nalin stopped Aahan before he could speak further. 

 

“Save your lectures, bhai, as we are not the ones who started this war.”

 

Nalin waved a hand as if to say ‘see what I have to deal with’ to Udit and then sighed, “You are right, I know very well who started this war. However the tea, I believe, is ready. The usual, boys?”

 

“We’re out of the usual,” Aahan sounded even more annoyed than his default tone which was borderline ‘I’m going to punch you the next word out of your mouth’.

 

“Ah, alright then. Well, we’ll make do.” He made the tea at a reasonable pace and then brought it and some snacks out. Udit was just finishing a story about his meetings with the leaders of the Congress. Nalin had met with them before, but as the representation of all of India as it was, he could not meet with them often as he would like. Rebellion was a word that he tried not to say, speaking in circles around it. The consequences weren’t something he wanted to endure if it would not be successful again. A rebellion that was doomed to fail was nothing he wanted to endorse. He would give his life if it meant his people’s freedom. But if all his life brought was more chaos, that wasn’t a sacrifice worth making.

 

 It was a blessing of youth to not have to think so far in the future to all possible outcomes and the ones that weren’t just the ones you desired.

 

He had sat back down while thinking and after passing out the cups. He was just about to take a sip when Aahan aimed a glance his way after drinking his tea. It wasn’t a frown, and it wasn’t a smile, but it was somewhere between those two extremes. He hid his own smile in his cup as he sipped on the sweet blend of cinnamon.

 

“Well,” Udit sighed, wrapping up his tale, “All we can do is see what they do. We can protest all we want, march all we want, but…”

 

“Well that will only get you in trouble with the English. I’d rather you stay safe, bhai—.”

 

“He’d rather you stay silent and be content and watchful.”

 

“You’ve such a low opinion of me, Aahan,” he said after that rude interjection, “Dying is painful, and as we are now, it would take a bit before we came back.”

 

“We die a bit each day as more and more of our resources and people are taken away,” Udit pointed out, “We grow weaker as they grow fatter.”

 

“Yes, a slow death each and every day. We’ve endured it this long; we can endure it a bit longer. They will kill you, and then kill you again until it gets into your head their message. We have no voice, but our people are speaking. They are screaming out and they will be heard. After all we have done for this Empire…” he sighed, and sipped his tea as Aahan poured himself another cup.

 

“You have a fair point,” Aahan said it grudgingly but his tone wasn’t as harsh as it had been earlier which meant the tea was working it’s magic.

 

“I think I shall take that,” he laughed after saying that, and then shrugged, “Well, what else have you been up to, Udit?”

 

They caught each other up on their lives and eventually he made his way to the kitchen to fix dinner when he noticed the time and listened with half an ear as they both went to do their evening prayer. It was good that they still had their faith to guide them.

 

Dinner was simple and after Udit departed for his own home.

 

“Is there anything else I need to add to the list to buy? Tomorrow they’ll go shopping.” His words had stopped Aahan who was heading back to his room; he gave a huge sigh and swung back around, staring him down with his green eyes even as he remained silent. “Is there?”

 

“You know what I like,” and he was admitting that reluctantly, and it reminded Nalin of how when he was a child he had held his secrets close to his chest for fear of being found out. But with enough careful observation many secrets could be uncovered.

 

“I suppose I do,” and then after a moment, “Arthur is coming into the city in a short while.”

 

“Well I know where I won’t be.” And then Aahan’s closing the door to his room and silence fell in the house.

 

* * *

 

_1906_

When he was younger, he had thought he was alone in the world. That there was no one else like him and that he was cursed. Then he had gone east and met others like him. He had discovered that he had a family.

 

This discovery had made a desire rise in his heart that his family could all gather under one roof and live together.

 

The first time that such a gathering happened, it was not in a way he had wanted. His siblings came to him battered and bruised, hating him. He had not thought that he would become what he had hated. That his people could do this…but that was the truth about humanity. That was the _curse_ of humanity.

 

The only way to survive was the push forward and to become at times, what you had hated. To do things that you had hated being done to you. Because those people had been right, that was how you survived and made it in the world.

 

Love and hate were sides of the same coin.

 

He watched Aahan pack, and he leaned against the doorframe. For once the room was not hidden in shadows. It was full of light and there were cases on the floor with clothes packed inside. The bed had been stripped and everything that made this room Aahan Roy’s, ward of Nalin Roy, was gone. It was terrifying how easy a process it had been.

 

“This is exactly what they want, you know? You are playing right into their hands if you go with them,” he stopped talking and shook his head. He would think Aahan would know better. They hold much more potential working as one than they do working opposite each other. “This is their calling card—.”

 

“The freedom your people are fighting for will not set _my_ people free,” Aahan doesn’t stop emptying his beside drawers, and Nalin’s fingers twitched as Aahan closed one and moved on to the next, “Will not set me free. These are my people and I will go with them.”

 

“You are an ungrateful child,” Nalin hissed out as he stepped into the room, “You are such being completely unreasonable, you will end up _dead_ and for what? We cannot afford to be divided up on lines like this.”

 

Aahan turned to face him, and stepped forward, staring him down with a strength that took Nalin by surprise for a moment, “I would rather die there then die here under your roof.”

 

“All I have done for you and this is how you repay me? Have I taught you nothing?”

 

 “You have taught me more than enough,” he finally muttered, and then glaring like it would be his last, “Get out of my room.”

 

Nalin slammed the door on his way out and went to his office and settled down on the chair.

 

The Muslims in his country had grouped together and formed their own party, and then they had reached out to Aahan, recognizing him as the sultans in the past had as their country.

 

He imagined he could feel a shift happening in his very being as his citizens turned their loyalties from him and to someone else.

 

This was the beginning of the end, and he hated Aahan for rushing to meet it straight on without worrying about the consequences. Honestly, _children._

_Ungrateful, wretched children._

  

* * *

  _1947_

He looked his brother in the eyes after the meeting, which he hoped, would be the last and thought as his gold eyes met green, _I have never hated anyone more._

He was a bit startled when he heard the same sentiment being voiced out loud, echoing around him. But, he was not the one saying it. He had more self-control than that.

 

“I hate you,” and his younger brother’s body fairly vibrated with the intensity of what he was saying and with the strength of his belief. He was in his face, trying to frighten him in some twisted idea of revenge. His hand was firm at his side where his gun rested, but Nalin knew he wouldn’t draw it, not here, not after having gotten what he had fought for. Nalin thought that was rather unfair that he was speaking such words when like a child he was getting everything he had wished for, even after the fact that he was the cause of all the unrest and sheer amount of violence that was tainting his streets with the blood of his people—their people.

 

But he didn’t say that, instead he gave a short smile, “Then please stay on your side of the border, _Pakistan_.” He stepped away and turned out of that room that had took so much from him.

 

The person who had became his equal overnight had forsaken the name he had been given, instead taking up a new name as if to erase every last trace of his former identity.

 

Nalin doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to speak that name (because that would be acknowledging it) but the new country name is easier, simpler, gives distance even as close as the borders are to him and surrounding him on both sides.

 

The folder in his case contains copies of papers signed by himself ( _Nalin Roy, Union of India_ ) and his brother ( _Akmal Farooq, Dominion of Pakistan_ ).

 

He could deal with Empires taking over. He could deal with armies camped out in his homeland, and he could deal with famine and disasters. He had been handling these fine all these years, knowing that after a time they would end and his people would be able to heal. As long as his nation remained undivided and his people’s loyalties to the land remained pure, he always knew in the end it would be corrected, that they would move forward and make a stronger nation. That he would live on.

 

He didn’t know if there was a way to move forward from this.

 

* * *

  _20xx_

He would never try to paint himself as something that he wasn’t at least not here in the privacy of his own mind. He had done horrible things and had had horrible things done to him. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth sounded good in practice, but where did it end when after getting revenge a new incident came about? What was to be done when it was just a never-ending chain of abuse that stretched out forever and would until someone broke it?

 

He had wanted to be that person but each move he made had only strengthened the chain. It was hard to see things from the outside when you were in the midst of them. It was hard to be impartial when you were bleeding from your enemy’s hand. It was hard not to be consumed by rage and hate and willingly at that.

 

Now so many years later and he was tired. He was old and he was tired. Several centuries of fighting and now he was finally worn down. It was a bone weary exhaustion that made him less rash than he had been even ten years ago.

 

He had tried explaining that to a close friend who had put a hand over his eyes and made him relax instead, “Breathe,” had come the quiet order, so he did.

 

He took a breath each step along the hallway, as he would enter into the room where the rest of the SAARC—his family—would be waiting and the picture he presented to them mustn’t be one of someone who was shaken. It must be strong, it must be wise, it must be the ideal of who he strove to be.

 

It was only this many years later—so many wars later, seeing threats building up slowly, after getting threats neutralized, watching unhappiness leading to discontent, feeling discontent leading to civil unrest—that they were able to meet like this was only possible due to the way society had changed. They were no longer forcing each other to bend to each other’s wills and violating territorial lines and claims (for the most part).

 

It was a new age, this century, and the phrase on everyone’s lips was ‘ _democracy’_. He supposed he could deal with that.

 

He opened the door, and the conversation doesn’t pause but the fact that he had arrived got acknowledged with smiles and short greetings of welcome.  

 

Seven familiar faces and he looked at all of them, trying to see if he could notice any changes in them since last they met as they conversed. Their conversation continued on as he smiled and met their eyes and settled down in a chair set slightly apart but still within hearing.

 

And then there is the last person, his blood brother who hates him to such a level that he is surprised sometimes that he has not dropped dead from it. Nalin wasn’t actively trying to avoid looking at him, but old habits die a slow death after being in use for so long. He tried to not engage him too much when he can avoid it, especially since at these meetings his other siblings would not hesitant to take them both to task for fighting. At world meetings he has to always insist on trading seats with _anyone_ yet he doesn’t want anyone who has suffered under his hand to sit next to him so at some times it’s unavoidable that he ends up sitting next to him. It’s a rare time when that arrangement does not end in a fight. After so long he would think the organizers would learn better than that.  

 

He can’t read Pakistan like he used to be able to, so he is surprised when he actually meets his eyes for a second and he sees the same emotion he sees in his own amber eyes at times in the mirror.

 

It is tiredness, a weariness that’s soul deep and chipping away steadily at the foundation that made them up years ago. Pressing up against the walls that they built up around the core of their existences and bending and warping them out of place.

 

 _After all this time? Aah—so that’s how it has become, bhai._  

**Author's Note:**

> India’s reasoning in 1906 up the 40s until he looks at Akmal and all he feels is hate mixed with some regret is based on how the Hindu Indians felt in regards to the Muslim league of ‘stop trying to split our country apart’ and how they were opposed to the idea of Pakistan existing up until a certain event happened and then everyone was like ‘get away from us’ and it was chaos. The Partition of India resulted in the death of a lot of people and is a highly sensitive subject so I didn’t feel it would be appropriate to write about it here. I do think that people should read about it to understand more of India and Pakistan’s background.
> 
> On a slightly lighter note: I find it funny as hell that Nalin most likely takes it as an insult that Akmal changed his name from Aahan so he generally calls him Pakistan or nothing at all. He will sometimes slip and call him Aahan, but that insults Akmal because he feels it’s invalidating his identity. This leads to more issues than it’s worth especially since after a certain point they can’t even look at each other without wanting to punch each other in the face. They stopped calling each other by their first names and by ‘bhai’ around the same time. I guess since I headcanon that calling a fellow nation by their human name implies a certain measure of closeness that’s how it is or might in turn be a way to show disrespect if that closeness has been not established. Might also be vaguely influenced by the Hetalia tumblr RP community in how I do that as well.


End file.
